


Your Violet Disposition

by Kishi (el_o_l)



Series: I Write Sins Not Oneshots [15]
Category: Corpse Party (Video Game), Corpse Party: Tortured Souls, Haikyuu!!
Genre: ...listen you cant have a straight haikyuu au, CP, Crossover, Gay Male Character, Haikyuu!! AU, Kurosaki is basically HInata Shouyou, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Nakashima Naomi mention, Shinohara Seiko mention, hq, satosaki is my guilty pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 21:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_o_l/pseuds/Kishi
Summary: Satoshi quickly realises that Violet Boy won more than just the match.





	Your Violet Disposition

This is ridiculous," Satoshi mumbled under his breath as they faced Byakudan senior high boys' volleyball team. "They're all so tall!"

"And violent," Yoshiki murmured. "Look at that big muscled guy on the end. With the dark hair. He keeps glaring at me. Does he want a fight?"

"Shush, Yoshiki."

Today, Kisaragi Senior High would face Byakudan in a volleyball practice match. It didn't mean much to Satoshi, who had been forced to pick another club after finding he was useless at pretty much any other sport with a fast pace. He'd made sure to drag Yoshiki down with him to share the humiliation of joining an after-school activity halfway through their second year. Due to this, the Kisaragi team were losing by a colossal margin.

Honestly, Satoshi wasn't very good at volleyball either. But being friends with Yoshiki, Naomi and Shinohara meant that he had learnt how to block a punch and throw up his hands at the right time in order to defend himself, so there was that to save his act. That is, when he was within range of the ball. He was a slow runner, and wasn't that short, but had a height disadvantage in the game compared to others. At least he wasn't the worst, though. As it turned out, Yoshiki managed to be worse at sports than Satoshi, and it was something that he was very grateful for.

"This is just dreadful," Satoshi murmured as the ball sailed over his head once more.

"Fuck's sake. Can I get subbed out already?" Yoshiki caught the coach's attention, who quickly took him off the court and swapped him with a taller, more skilled player. Satoshi stood out of focus for a second before realising that his number was also being held up by a different tall and more skilled player, and sat down on the bench hurriedly.

"You know, we could have a chance. Most of their taller players have been taken out to cool down," Satoshi said. But when he looked over, Yoshiki had his eyes closed. "Trust you to sleep in the middle of a practice game..."

It got a little louder on the court, and the brunet looked up at his teammates. They still seemed to be struggling without the interference of him and Yoshiki, which wasn't usually the case. Sure, Byakudan had some large players, but it wasn't unusual for volleyball teams, and Kisaragi had definitely beaten bigger teams than them before in previous practice matches.

Satoshi watched for a while longer as the ball smacked down onto their side of the court once more. He couldn't see much over the back defenders (he wasn't sure if that's what they were called, but that's what they were to him), but, soon enough, the pathway cleared.

Bright violet hair spiked up caught his eyes immediately when he looked over the other side of the net. A little lower, and Satoshi was met with matching eyes, vibrant with adrenaline. He choked on his breath for a second, and the boy beside him shifted a little.

"Jesus, he's tiny," Yoshiki grumbled. "He's showing us up." Satoshi didn't reply.

He wasn't tiny. He looked the same size as the other players next to him. But then Satoshi took the hair into account, and realised that the violet boy was probably a few inches shorter than what he originally figured.

"Oh," he eventually replied. Yoshiki snickered.

"Hey, don't look so shocked. He's probably a sports genius or something. You'll get better with practice, huh, Satoshi?"

"Mhm..." He was still staring. He couldn't help it. It was the eyes and the hair that were attractive. To the eye, not attractive-attractive, but they could catch anyone's attention. And he did look sporty. He had a skinny-muscular look to Satoshi. Maybe he was just the type of kid to join every active club.

But then Satoshi watched him go for a spike. The boy leapt several feet into the air - much higher than any normal person would have anticipated - and slammed the ball back onto Kisaragi's side, which hit the floor almost instantaneously.

How? How did he do that, and where the hell could Satoshi learn how to do that so that he wouldn't look like such a clutz of a player?

They won. Of course they did. Their players were tall enough that they didn't need to be as skilled as Kisaragi's team, and the one player that faced a height disadvantage greatly made up for it with his somewhat superhuman skill. Even as they thanked each other for the game, Satoshi couldn't help but continue to look at the violet boy. He was something else, that was for certain.

"Mochida," the teammate next to Satoshi whispered, and when he looked up he realised that they were returning to the changing rooms.

"Ah- yeah. Thanks, Takeda-kun." And with that, Satoshi made his way back in.

As it turned out, he wasn't that weird for thinking about the violet boy. The entire team were discussing his movements in the changing rooms. Satoshi found that his name was Kurosaki, as everybody on the Byakudan had apparently cheered whenever he scored a point. It was a nice name.

Christ, Satoshi couldn't sound more gay if he tried.

When they walked down to the coach to leave, Byakudan were standing there to greet Kisaragi off. They looked smug, and it seemed a little tense between the two teams. But Satoshi looked over at Kurosaki, and found that he had a large grin on his face. It didn't seem particularly triumphant, but more so a genuine smile that radiated out. It ended up making Satoshi smile a little too, until Kurosaki caught eyes with him. That was when the heat began to creep up his neck and his chest felt shaky, and his brain screamed at him that he was walking a very dangerous path at this point in time.

"Good game," he found himself saying. Why. Why did he say anything? That wasn't necessary in any way whatsoever.

"Thanks!" Kurosaki replied cheerily, eyes dancing and mesmerising Satoshi.

"How? How did you do all of that?" Apparently, Satoshi was still talking. And he wasn't even stuttering. He thought this might be an out-of-body experience.

"Practice. I practise a lot."

"But I practise, and I can't do anything even remotely impressive..."

The violet boy took a notepad out and began scribbling on it.

"Eh... well, maybe you aren't doing it right. If it really bothers ya that much, I can help. If you'd like, obviously."

Phone number. It was a phone number.

What.

Satoshi must have had a more bewildered look on his face than he thought, because Kurosaki suddenly looked very unsure and began to withdraw the paper scrap that he was holding out. He took it quickly as not to confuse him.

"Y-yeah. That'd... that'd be great. Whenever - if you would want to help me. Th-ank you very much, uh... Kurosaki. Oh - I'm Mochida."

And there was the embarrased stuttering. Satoshi didn't even wait for a reply before scrambling into the coach.

Later that night, Satoshi managed to sum up the courage to text Kurosaki. He didn't say anything; he stated that it was him that was texting simply to make it into Kurosaki's contact book. And, of course, Kurosaki texted back quickly, because he was probably an outspoken person who didn't get nervous over a dumb text.

'Cool! So do you still want help with practice sometime?'

Satoshi wanted help with a lot of things. Appropriate socialisation being one of them.

'If that's all right with you, I guess :)'

'In that case, you could come to the gym next Monday at my school. I'll help you out however I can.'

Next week. Monday. That was only three days away. Less than three days away - it was already late evening on Friday.

Oh, God.

'That'd be great! See you then :)'

He needed to stop with the emoticons. Kurosaki wasn't using them. Satoshi probably looked stupid, like a young teenage girl. He'd made plans, though. To improve his volleyball skill. That was strictly all that was happening. Satoshi's cheeks felt warm, and he rubbed them in annoyance.

Monday came around too quickly, and Satoshi had no idea what he was doing with himself. He probably should have brought a teammate with him so that he wouldn't feel as awkward. He was never that good around new people - especially if they had such a natural charm about them.

Satoshi looked cautiously into the gym he was instructed to go to at Byakudan high, and, by no surprise, there was the entirety of the school's volleyball team. His hands got shaky, and he thought about just turning around and claiming he was busy to Kurosaki when said boy called out to him.

"Hey, Mochida!" he called out. Tentatively, Satoshi walked towards Kurosaki, wary that he had yelled loud enough to catch the attention of most people in the gymnasium.

"Hi, Kurosaki. I... I hope this is still okay."

"Of course it is!" Kurosaki flashed a radiant smile at the brunet. "I invited you, after all."

Satoshi stood awkwardly as Kurosaki helped his team bring the remainders of their equipment out, and surveyed their gym. It was only a little bigger than Kisaragi's own gymnasium in terms of size, but the vibe in the room just seemed so much grander than what he was used to.

"So," Kurosaki started. "Is there anything in particular that you want to go over?"

"Uh..."

Satoshi came to the quick conclusion that he needed to go over everything. This would have become more apparent to Kurosaki the longer he tried to tutor the brunet. At least, however, the two could identify some sort of difference in his skills; those skills being that he was kind of okay at knowing where to block, bad at most other things, and horrendous at serving and passing - or just anything that inches trying to manipulate the direction of the ball with his fists. Kurosaki kept trying to motivate him to keep trying, but, in Satoshi's eyes, it seemed to make little difference, no matter how much effort he put into it.

He sighed as Kurosaki stopped to think for a moment. "I... I just can't."

"Mochida... the way you're serving... have you ever played as a setter?" The other asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Satoshi said, rather taken aback by the abrupt question. "No. Never."

"Really? Your stance seems to mimic what our setter does. Hey - Shimada! Come here a sec."

"Huh?" A deeper voice called out from further away.

"I need you to help with something."

"Whatever." Satoshi had now located the voice to a red-haired male, who was sauntering across the ball towards himself and Kurosaki. "If it gets me out of actual practice, go ahead."

"This is Mochida," Kurosaki gestured. "We're practising different serving techniques right now, and he seems to be... doing things a little differently."

Struggling, Satoshi thought, was an alternate way of phrasing it.

"Well, I'm not a tutor. I won't be much use," Shimada began to walk back to where he was previously.

"No, hang on a moment," Kurosaki said quickly and put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Just set a few balls over the net, that's all I think we need. For now, anyways."

"What?" Satoshi murmured.

"Listen, Mochida." Kurosaki turned back towards him, and he felt nervous for about the seventeenth time that day. Their eyes locked. "If you can just watch the way Shimada does this for me - where he positions his legs and how he moves his arms - then I have a feeling you might pick it up more quickly. Actually, you might be quite good at this."

"Good..?"

"Fine, I'll set some shit for you," Shimada mumbled, ducking under the net and standing a fair distance from Kurosaki.

"Great! Thanks so much, Shimada."

"Thank you," Satoshi added hesitantly.

Back and forth a few times, he observed Shimada's sets. He'd seen how Kisaragi's own setter played, but never in great detail - he tried to avoid staring at the boys on his team for too long as not to cause any trouble. Setting... was like a push. He didn't have to bat the ball; it looked to him as if Shimada was almost catching it and then launching it up again before it was still in his hands.

As it turns out, he wasn't too bad at it at all. Kurosaki actually seemed sort of impressed that he was better at setting than all of the other basic volleyball skills, even if there was irony in it being the only thing he'd never practised. For the first time in a while, Satoshi... actually felt confident. He really did find it easier to play setter. Maybe he could be a reserve for that position - it wasn't as if Kisaragi had one - if he concentrated hard enough.

"Hey, Mochida." Pulling him out of his euphoric trance, Kurosaki grabbed Satoshi by the shoulders and looked at him face-to-face. "That was really great."

"H-Uh... yeah?" Satoshi stuttered, intimidated by piercing violet orbs.

"Yeah," the violet boy said breathlessly. "You should have... more faith in yourself. You're great."

Satoshi wasn't great at all, but being complimented like this from Kurosaki made his head spin. He wished that he could say he hated it, but he would be lying to himself.

"Thanks," he blurted out in return, cheeks flushing. Kurosaki squeezed his shoulders.

"It was, uh - it was fun practising with you. You have a lot of energy. Maybe-"

"Speak for yourself. You jumped so high in that game..."

"Oh," Kurosaki chuckled, a little sheepish. "Yeah, that's something I've been working on for years. To compensate for not exactly being the tallest out there."

"Can you show me how to do it?" He didn't even know what he was saying anymore; it was all just coming out. More time. He wanted more time. He wasn't used to feeling like this, and he didn't want it to end.

"Well, if you insist," Kurosaki replied without hesitation. "Next week. You can text me. Or we can - or we can just meet up somewhere and then discuss what to go over. To save time for practising."

"We can do that," Satoshi said. "Yeah. Cool." Another shoulder squeeze.

"Kurosaki!" A voice rang out from the other side of the gymnasium - the rest of the Byakudan team were packing up.

"Huh," Kurosaki murmured. "I guess that's my cue to go."

"Yeah." The firm grip on his shoulders was lifted slowly.

"See you later then, Mochida," he said, backing up a few steps (and still staring into Satoshi's eyes with what felt like the most intense gaze the brunet had ever experienced - and he'd had Yoshiki Kishinuma try to intimidate him before) before eventually turning around with a small smile.

"...Bye!" Satoshi called out, turning swiftly on his heel to retrieve his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed his phone out and opened it on his and Kurosaki's text message thread, typing out plans to meet up as he left.


End file.
